


Lucia Homes

by AdriannaRossetti



Category: Ratched (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Caretaking, Eventual Romance, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28679253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdriannaRossetti/pseuds/AdriannaRossetti
Summary: Set in modern-ish times. A/U where Mildred Ratched is a nurse at an elite retirement community, and Gwendolyn checks herself in as a guest after a horrific incident that left her shot and her husband dead. As Mildred is assigned to Gwendolyn as her primary caretaker, they grow closer and eventually must confront what lies between them.
Relationships: Gwendolyn Briggs/Mildred Ratched
Comments: 38
Kudos: 90





	1. 2 o’clock

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into this fandom, and I’m so excited to finally write for our favorite ladies :) Please do let me know your thoughts and feedback in the comments. 
> 
> I also admit that I don’t know much about retirement communities, but tried to be as accurate/realistic as I could with Google as my resource 😂
> 
> Thanks, all!

The gentle clinking of silverware scraping against plates during the residents’ breakfast gave Mildred an odd sort of satisfaction every morning. Perhaps it was the accompanying chatter that always seemed to cover the same conversations, or the simple routine of it all. Whatever the reason, she could always count on it to give her a sense of control as she started her day.   
  
“Good morning, Ms. Blix, Ms. Cartwright, Mr. Bronley,” she said politely, dipping her head to each person as she slipped between the ornate tables, each decorated with a unique bouquet of colorful flowers. And not just any flowers - flowers that Mildred had painstakingly hand-picked the evening before to keep up appearances. Dr. Hanover would accept nothing less.  
  
Lucia Homes was an elite retirement community for the wealthy residents of Lucia, California. Mildred Ratched had started as a nurse a little over a year ago, thanks to her confidence, skills, and glowing recommendation from her time serving in the Red Cross. She already immensely enjoyed this new position, even if she did have a few coworkers she’d rather live without. 

“Morning, Nurse Ratched!” one of the other, younger nurses fell in step with her as Mildred was making her rounds. The blonde blew a bubble from her bright red lips, and grinned at her. 

“Good morning, Dolly,” Mildred said as she came to the front of the dining room. “Must you blow those bubbles this early?”

Dolly giggled. “You say that every morning.”

“And yet nothing changes,” Mildred sniffed and turned her head back to examine her guests. 

“Are you excited for our new guest today?” Dolly continued, completely ignoring her superior.

“I’m looking forward to seeing how our staff can best support this guest’s needs,” Mildred’s eyes kept roaming the hall, sharply scanning for any signs of distress or trouble. 

“Kinda last minute, isn't it? Who's gonna be in charge of them?” Dolly blew another bubble.

“I’m sure Nurse Bucket will assign someone during our staff meeting in,” Mildred checked her watch, “precisely 30 minutes.”

“I hope it’s at least someone interesting,” Dolly groused. “I can only take so much more of Ingrid’s opera stories.” 

Mildred turned to her. “Ms. Blix is quite proud of her accomplishments as an opera singer. As her assigned nurse, I suggest you start coming up with different questions to spark new conversation. Now, go greet her, and I’ll see you at the meeting.”  
  
Dolly humphed, but went over to the table, plastering on a bright smile as she went. Mildred hid her amusement and returned her focus to keeping a watchful eye on her guests. 

* * *

“Good morning, all.” Betsy intoned as she strode in front of the circled staff. “As you know, we will be greeting a new guest today. While it's unusual for us to welcome someone on such short notice, Dr. Hanover and I have made an exception due to extraordinary circumstances. Her name is Gwendolyn Briggs, and she will be arriving early this afternoon. Huck is assigned to help her to her room and get settled.”

Mildred shared a quick smile with the young man. He was her favorite. Despite being physically scarred on one side of his face, he was the gentlest, kindest human she’d ever met. 

“Ratched?” Betsy called. 

Mildred looked at her.

“After some consideration, I’ve decided that you will be her primary caretaker. Mrs. Briggs will be admitted to our short-term care program. See me after, and I’ll fill you in on more of her history.” 

The nurse nodded once, but inside was irritated. She knew that _Betsy_ knew of her weighted responsibilities. Despite only having started last March, she had unashamedly flaunted her talents, quickly catching the attention of Dr. Hanover. She had gotten in good favor with the Director, risen in rank fairly fast, and Betsy had been chilly to her ever since. While Mildred had a few assigned guests that she checked in with regularly wearing her ‘nurse hat’, her main role had elevated precariously close to Betsy’s, with management and overseeing general operations taking up the majority of her job description now. Adding the responsibility of a patient that needed actual physical care on top of her other duties would be tough, but no matter. She squared her shoulders. So be it. Gwendolyn Briggs would get the best darn care if Mildred Ratched had anything to say about it. 

Betsy continued the meeting for another 15 minutes, covering a few general updates before she let them go. 

Mildred lingered behind, impatiently waiting for another staff member to finish asking Betsy his questions. Finally, they finished and Betsy turned to her.

“Ah, thank you for being willing to take on this guest,” Betsy smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I thought with your…extensive nursing experience, you’d be the most qualified.”

“I'm sure,” Mildred's tone was slightly too frosty, and she cleared her throat. “Thank you for entrusting me with Mrs. Briggs’ care.”   
  
Betsy nodded tightly. She gestured in front of herself, "Shall we go sit in the break area? I’ll grab her file, and we can spend some time talking through it.”

Mildred nodded and followed the Director of Nursing to the colorful, retro-inspired break room. As gaudy as Mildred initially found it, the bright, pastel colors had grown on her over time. She sat on the lime green settee, and Betsy sat in the chair across from her. 

“Here,” Betsy placed the file on the white table between them. 

Mildred flipped it open and scanned it quickly. Somewhat predictably, as the accommodations were made rather last minute, there was no image of Gwendolyn Briggs included. 

“We’ll have to get her photo taken upon arrival, of course,” Betsy said as if she read her mind. She crossed her legs and clucked her tongue. “It’s all quite tragic and sudden - what happened, I mean. She and her husband, a man named Trevor, were involved in that horrible bank robbery a few weeks ago. Apparently Mrs. Briggs is not someone to shy away from danger, as she took a bullet in her chest trying to protect the poor clerk. Her husband, unfortunately, was caught in a crossfire by one of gunmen and died on the scene.”

“Oh,” Mildred said quietly, her emotions churning as she processed Betsy’s recount of the traumatic event. Her curiosity about their new guest finally sparked, she was intrigued to learn more about this brave woman. 

“Mrs. - or I suppose, Ms…we’ll have to see what she prefers once she arrives - Briggs was in the political sphere, serving as the campaign manager and press secretary for the Governor. Well, I suppose I should say “is”, as it’s up in the air whether or not she might return to work after she heals. We’ll be welcoming her into our short-term assisted living program - currently, she’s not scheduled to stay past the window of time it takes to rehabilitate and heal her.” 

“Ah,” Mildred fiddled with the top of the file. “Why would she come here, to a retirement community, though? Why not stay in the comfort of her own home and hire someone to come around?” 

“I don't know,” Betsy shrugged. “You’ll have to ask her that. She’s due to arrive around 2 o’clock today.” The older woman stood up, smoothing her pants down. “Given the short time frame, I suggest you return to your duties now, Nurse Ratched. Huck will be preparing Ms. Briggs' room this morning, and I trust you to take care of her treatment plan accordingly.” 

Mildred also rose, automatically brushing a hand down her long blue skirt. As much as she tried to get into the pants fad, she was still a skirt woman. She loved the heightened elegance and added femininity she felt when the fabric swished just below her bare knees. 

“Of course. Have a good morning, Nurse Bucket,” Mildred nodded sharply in the other woman’s direction.

“You as well. And Ratched?” Betsy pursed her lips. “Do be careful. Ms. Briggs, I’m told, has a powerful reputation, and I’d hate for you to do anything to, shall we say, be on the wrong end of it.”

Mildred rose an eyebrow. “I'm sure I’ll be perfectly fine,” she nodded once more before swiftly taking her leave. 

Clutching the file close to her chest, Mildred strode quickly down the hall. A sense of anticipation was bubbling within her, and she felt unsettled by it. _Gwendolyn Briggs is just another resident that I shall help heal over these next couple of months._ She shoved any further musings of the woman she had yet to meet out of her mind, and focused all of her concentration on getting ahead of her work. 

* * *

When the clock hit 1:45, Mildred was ready. She had strategically positioned herself in the gathering space near the entrance. There, she was able to mingle and chat with some of the residents while inconspicuously keeping an eye on the front doors. She hummed in approval at her forethought. 

“Oh, Nurse Ratched!” Ingrid waved to her.

…or perhaps it was a mistake to be there early. Brushing off that cruel thought, Mildred made a concentrated effort to soften her expression and walked over to the seated blonde. “Hello, Ms. Blix. How are you?” 

“Very well, very well. Dolly helped run me through my scales today!” Ingrid beamed. "Alas, this old voice can’t hit those high notes any more, but Dolly was a peach and cheered me through that high C.”

“Wonderful,” Mildred rested a hand on the back of her chair. “And how is everything else going today? Have you heard from Paul?”

As Ingrid chatted, Mildred couldn’t help her focus from drifting. Her brown eyes flitted from the clock to the front doors quickly, not wanting to miss the moment. Huck was already waiting by the front door, ever the gentleman. _Should she also be there by his side, greeting Ms. Briggs? She didn’t want the other woman to be overwhelmed -_

“Are you listening, Nurse Ratched?” Ingrid sounded upset. 

“Of course,” Mildred lied smoothly. “Tell me - how did Paul react when you told him you were practicing your scales again?” 

Ingrid predictably lit up at the mention of her favorite topic, and she was off running again. Mildred forced herself to engage more, and when she next glanced up, it was 1:58. She swallowed, and looked to the door. Huck was gone, and she felt a jolt of excitement. 

At precisely 2 o'clock, the doors opened, and Mildred finally laid eyes on the mysterious Gwendolyn Briggs. 

The older woman was also a redhead, and her ginger hair fell loosely around her slightly rounded, make-up free face. She was wearing a pair of brown trousers and a checkered blazer - an outfit that Mildred privately thought looked more suitable for a press conference than checking into a retirement community, but no matter. Gwendolyn Briggs was a stunning woman. She walked confidently, despite supporting herself with a slim black cane on one side, and Huck’s arm on the other.

She was talking with Huck animately, the young man’s smile wide. Suddenly, she turned her head, and piercing green eyes found Mildred’s own. The nurse felt her cheeks flush for reasons unknown to her, and quickly averted eye contact. 

“Is that the new resident?” Ingrid asked with curiosity, startling the distracted nurse.

“Yes,” Mildred looked down at her, silently cursing herself for having such a strong, visceral reaction. 

“I can't wait to meet her - oh look, she’s coming over here,” Ingrid beamed and waved.

Mildred snapped her head back up, and found herself captivated by those green eyes again. 

“Hello,” the older woman smile reached her sparkling eyes. “I’m Gwendolyn Briggs.” 

Mildred cleared her throat, “Nurse Mildred Ratched. I know exactly who you are.” 


	2. unpacking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you’re all staying safe and supported out there. ❤️

_I know exactly who you are?_ Mildred cursed herself inwardly when she saw the other woman look a bit taken aback. To Gwendolyn’s credit though, perhaps the politician in her, she chuckled good-naturedly.

“Welcome to Lucia Homes,” Mildred fought through her embarrassment and looked towards Ingrid. “May I introduce one of our residents, Ingrid Blix?”

“Pleasure,” Gwendolyn inclined her head. “Please, call me Gwendolyn.”

“Welcome,” Ingrid eyed her up and down before commenting, “You’re a pretty one.” She extended her gloved hand before realizing Gwendolyn didn’t have a free one to offer in return. She laughed and tipped her head as a substitute. “You landed in a good place, Gwendolyn. I’ve been here for about 4 years, and I love it. After I retired from the opera stage, I found Lucia Homes to be full of good folks who offered their support and love.”

“You were an opera singer?” Gwendolyn asked as she moved to sit in the cream-colored lounge chair next to her.

“Oh, I was a legend,” Ingrid’s eyes misted over. "A household name all over Europe. I have played every opera house from La Scala to the Bolshoi. I have sung every great soprano role, from Brünnhilde to Turandot.”

“Fascinating,” Gwendolyn lit up, and Mildred saw that the woman was genuinely interested. How curious.

“My favorite performance, however,” Ingrid looked into the distance and touched her long diamond earrings with one gloved hand, “was Violetta in Verdi’s La traviata at The Royal Opera House in London.”

Huck and Mildred exchanged amused looks.

“I’ll just go grab your bags and bring them to your room, Mrs. Briggs,” Huck quickly interrupted.

“Oh, please call me Ms. Briggs or Gwendolyn,” the redheaded woman looked up. “Thank you, Huck.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Huck ran back to the entrance.

The two women resumed their conversation, and Mildred quietly slipped away to check in on some of the other guests who were entering the gathering area. A few joined Ingrid and Gwendolyn, wanting to meet the newcomer. Every so often, Mildred would glance over in their direction, taking advantage of Gwendolyn’s distracted attention to study her - discreetly, of course. Nothing more than a few shy glances. She seemed completely relaxed, and Mildred marveled at the state she was in. If Mildred had just been shot and moved to a retirement community, she would’ve gone straight to her room without speaking to a single soul. Yet here was Gwendolyn, a bright light radiating warmth and genuine interest to everyone she was speaking to. Mildred itched to be a part of Gwendolyn’s circle, but held back. There would be plenty of time for that later.

Dolly came into the gathering room as the clock struck 3, and made her way over to Ingrid. Mildred watched as she introduced herself to Gwendolyn before helping Ingrid up and escorting the diva out of the hall. The nurse took that as her cue to also relieve her resident, and made her way across the room. As she approached her, Gwendolyn looked up and smiled. 

Mildred could feel her knees weaken under the weight of that brilliant look. She cleared her throat. “Ms. Briggs, as much as I hate to pull you from your new friends, I must help you to your room so we can go over a few things.”

“Ah, perfect,” Gwendolyn smiled and turned to the other residents near her. “I hope to see some of you at dinner tonight!”

Mildred offered her arm, and tried in vain to control the rhythm of her breathing that threatened to stutter when Gwendolyn firmly took it. _What was wrong with her? Why was she reacting this way? She wasn’t gay, and clearly neither was Gwendolyn. Poor Gwendolyn, who had endured the traumatic event of watching her_ _husband_ _be killed right in front of her._ With that sobering thought, Mildred pulled herself together and started to guide the other woman down the hall. The nurse frowned slightly when she felt Gwendolyn lean against her with a little more weight than she was comfortable with. She made a mental note to ask the other woman about her pain levels once they reached the privacy of her room.

“I apologize, Hank was supposed to escort you and give you the overview of our organization, but he had other responsibilities to attend to,” Mildred spoke as she subtly slowed down their walk, hoping that Gwendolyn would feel more comfortable. “I hope you don’t mind me taking over.”

“Of course,” Gwendolyn said warmly. “After all, it was my doing that caused Hank to be delayed in the rest of his duties. Besides, I’m grateful for this chance to chat with you.”

Mildred could feel a slight blush rising, and the corner of her mouth twitched. However, she forced herself to remain professional. “Well, Lucia Homes was established to provide a center for folks who are 50 and older, nearing retirement age,” she launched into her well-rehearsed speech. “Our mission is to provide health, safety, laughter, and comfort to our residents, which can vary from 25-30 people at a time. We’re a bit more exclusive, but that’s because we try to uphold our personal standard of excellence in care for each and every one of our guests,” she explained. “Our grounds are quite extensive, and you are welcome to wander the premises as you wish. There are quite a few musicians here, including Ms. Blix, so I'm sure you will find at least a couple practicing in one of our five gardens on any given day. We have an offering of loosely structured activities throughout the day, however nothing is mandatory. You and I will work to find a suitable treatment plan to build in your daily schedule - once you’ve had a chance to get settled and better acquainted with our events, we can work around your interests.”

The two women reached the room, and Mildred dipped in her skirt pocket to fish out a silver key. Unlocking it, she pushed the door open to reveal a modest, clean bedroom. It had a queen-sized bed, a large chair, a vanity, and a dresser. A private bathroom was also attached. 

“Huck took the liberty of setting your bags in here, but thought it would be best for you and I to unpack together,” Mildred gave her a small smile. “Would you like to start now and finish before dinner? I thought we could also start discussing your treatment plan.”

“Oh yes, that sounds wonderful,” Gwendolyn sat heavily on the bed, wincing slightly.

“Are you alright?” Mildred asked in concern, placing the key on the vanity before making her way over to the seated woman. 

“I’m fine, no more pain than usual. I’ve found though that I can’t stay in the same upright position for too long, otherwise I get rather tense,” Gwendolyn tried to smile, and rubbed at her chest absentmindedly.

“You shouldn’t have been sitting on that stiff chair for so long,” Mildred chided. “Let me help you lay down.”

“Alright.”

“Would you like to take your coat off first?” Mildred gestured to the other woman’s blazer. “Might be more comfortable.”

"Yes, please,” Gwendolyn agreed. "I'll need your help, though." 

The nurse nodded and made quick work of the checkered garment, remaining professional and swift in her assistance. After carefully hanging it in the closet so it wouldn’t get wrinkled, she hurried back to her patient and helped the older woman get into a comfortable lying position, adjusting the pillows as she went. Gwendolyn, now clad in a soft beige undershirt, peered up at her. 

“Thank you,” she said with a sigh of relief once she was settled.

“Of course,” Mildred clasped her hands in front of herself, her left loosely wrapped around her right wrist. “Would you care to rest?”

“No, I’m fine,” Gwendolyn’s eyes sparkled. “Besides, I’d rather remain in your company for a while longer.”

“Oh,” Mildred smiled, pleased. Brushing her skirt underneath her, she sat elegantly on the chair in front of the vanity. “The unpacking can wait. Tell me, what does your pain feel like on a given day?”

“Like I’ve been shot,” Gwendolyn said dryly, but relented when she saw Mildred’s slight frown. “Honestly, it feels like I'm being stabbed in the chest with a hot poker.”

The nurse looked at her sympathetically. “Do you have pain medication?”

“Yes, the doctor at the hospital gave me a bottle of something or another,” Gwendolyn waved her hand in the air. “They help minimally, but I’m not allowed anything stronger. Something to do with my heart and past intolerance to heavier opioids.”

“There are a number of naturopathic methods or alternative therapies we can try on top of the medication,” Mildred made a mental note to do some research. “What is your range of mobility? I can imagine being shot there would hinder quite a few movements,” her brown eyes subconsciously flicked to the area, tracing the soft swell of Gwendolyn’s breast. Guiltily, she snapped her gaze back up to meet the other woman’s blue eyes.

“As you just saw, not too much,” Gwendolyn said ruefully, seemingly unaware of Mildred's wandering gaze. “I can barely lift my arms up, or even walk on my own without shooting pain radiating through my body. It’s part of why I came here, you see? With Trevor now…” she swallowed heavily, “gone, and no other family other than my aging mother in Connecticut, the doctor recommended that I check out a facility where I wouldn’t be alone.”

There was a slight pause.

“Well, Ms. Briggs,” Mildred said warmly, “you are in the right place.”

She stood up, and made her way to Gwendolyn’s side. “I am in good standing with many of the top-tiered nurse associations out there, and my work speaks for itself. I served in the Red Cross for five years, and have extensive training with injuries similar to yours,” she dropped her hand to the bed, not quite touching Gwendolyn’s hand. Brown eyes met blue. “I can assure you, Ms. Briggs, you are in good hands. My job is to help nurse you back to full strength, and I intend to see that through to fruition.” 

“My, how fortunate for me then that I’ve landed in your care, Nurse - oh, what do I call you?” she chuckled slightly as she tilted her head to the side. “Nurse Ratched or Mildred?”

With her soft ginger hair fanned out on the white pillow and her attention focused solely on Mildred, Gwendolyn was simply angelic. Mildred felt overwhelmed.

“Nurse Ratched will do fine,” the nurse said stiffly, turning away and missing Gwendolyn’s disappointed look. “Would you care to unpack now? We could continue discussing your treatment plan.”

“That’s fine,” Gwendolyn sighed.

“What would you like me to start with, then?” Mildred gestured to the suitcases, still not trusting herself to look at the other woman directly. “Perhaps the clothes, then the toiletries, then the personal items?”

“Looks like you've got it all planned out already,” the older woman chuckled. 

Mildred ducked her head. 

“No, I mean that’s fine,” Gwendolyn rushed to reassure her. “I’m also guessing you have a particular method and organization style, so I trust you to put my things away where they should belong,” she paused before adding, “Nurse Ratched.”

Mildred shivered, not sure what to make of the way Gwendolyn said her name. It wasn’t rude or mocking, at least not in the overt way she was used to. The tone was warm, but also seemed to hold a note of teasing? Shaking her head slightly, the nurse opened the first suitcase, and proceeded to methodically put Gwendolyn’s things away. The two women began talking more about Gwendolyn’s physical condition, and what she would require of Mildred in the coming months. As they ventured into safer territory, the nurse felt herself grow more confident in her area of expertise and started to relax again. It was determined that the older woman’s most pressing needs were personal care, medication and pain management, and strengthening exercises.

By the time Mildred placed the last item, a framed photograph of Gwendolyn with a handsome black man, on the dresser, the two had come up with a solid framework of what the first few weeks could look like. Mildred paused as she released the photo, her fingertip gently tracing the silver frame.

“He was a good man,” Gwendolyn said quietly, her eyes filling with tears. “Trevor, I mean.”

“Oh,” Mildred said, her breath caught in her throat. “I’m so sorry,” she said, feeling inadequate.

“One of the gunmen was waving his gun around more than the others. And when he saw me move to foolishly throw myself in front of that teller, he panicked… and Trevor -” Gwendolyn choked up and turned her face to the window. “He was just trying to get to me after I fell.” 

The rays from the fading sunset illuminated the woman’s face, highlighting the dark circles and stress lines that Mildred wasn’t sure she saw before. For the first time that afternoon, she saw the other woman’s light fade and, despite still virtually being strangers, Mildred felt terrified. 

She hastened to be by Gwendolyn’s side. Perching herself on the edge of the bed, Mildred reached out hesitantly to a limp hand. Slowly, giving Gwendolyn time to pull back, she placed her own on top of Gwendolyn’s and let it rest there. Gwendolyn’s watery blue eyes pierced hers.

“If your first instinct during that traumatic event was to save another person’s life,” Mildred said lowly, “then you are a hero, Ms. Briggs. And that is not foolish in my book. I can only offer my words as comfort, but I am terribly sorry that Trevor’s life was lost. He must have loved you deeply, to have had his last actions be rooted in such protection and comfort. He too, died a hero.”

There was a pregnant pause as the two women looked at each other.

“How lucky I am once again then,” Gwendolyn quietly muses, “to have landed in your care.”

They sat there, content with the silence between them and the comfort of their soft touch.

Eventually, Mildred broke the peacefulness as she saw the time, and ever the punctual woman, she spoke. “Would you care to go to dinner? They’re serving an eggs Benedict-inspired dish, except with bologna.”

“Oh,” Gwendolyn wrinkled her nose, bringing some life back to her face. “No, thank you.”

“Why? It’s perfectly nutritious,” Mildred tilted her head.

“I just don’t eat extruded meats,” Gwendolyn explained.

“Oh, I apologize,” Mildred frowned. “We should have been more prepared for your dietary restrictions.” She stood up, reluctantly pulling her hand away from Gwendolyn’s. “I’ll have the chef prepare something more to your liking. Perhaps eggs Florentine?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Gwendolyn looked up at her. “And would it be too much trouble to take my meal in here? I’m simply exhausted from today’s events - much more so than I had anticipated.”

Mildred opened her mouth automatically to decline her request - after all, no other guest at Lucia Halls was allowed to eat in their rooms; that defeated the whole ‘community’ living aspect of it - but she saw Gwendolyn’s pleading look, and remembered the emotional upheaval she just went through. For the numerous time that day, Mildred was in complete awe of this woman’s strength. “Of course, Ms. Briggs,” Mildred said with a small smile. “Just this once,” she added for good measure.

“Oh, thank you,” Gwendolyn’s shoulders sagged, and Mildred knew she had made the right choice. After all, what use was her elevated position if she didn’t wield her power every so often?

Mildred moved to the door. “I’ll be sure to tell your new friends that you were feeling under the weather, and you’ll see them tomorrow.”

Gwendolyn chuckled, her visage brightening once more. 

“Oh, and Ms. Briggs?” Mildred turned her head, resting her hand on the doorframe. “Bologna is my favorite food,” she winked and softly closed the door behind her.

In the safety of the hallway, the nurse sagged against the wood and exhaled heavily. Wow. Mildred had a lot of processing to do, but first, she mused as she started walking, she had to attend to Ms. Briggs’ supper.


	3. marigolds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! TW: mentions of a panic attack at the beginning.

The rumbling of gentle thunder woke her, a welcome reprieve from the usual shrill sound of her alarm clock. Mildred yawned and squinted at the time, groaning a bit when it read 5:07. Technically, she still had 23 minutes before she had to start her day. With an uncharacteristic child-like grin on her face, she rolled over and snuggled deeper into her blankets. She drifted in that dreamy state before fully waking, her thoughts jumbled as she allowed herself the luxury of staying in bed.

The past few weeks had been a blur. Mildred, a woman who thrived on routine and structure, found herself scrambling to adjust to the new changes in her life. Between her regular responsibilities and making sure her new patient was receiving the best possible care, she hardly had time for herself. Mildred could feel the exhaustion deeply and knew she wasn’t getting enough rest - heaven forbid she fell ill.

Yet even now, as she laid there quietly listening to the patter of rain on her rooftop and the rolling thunder, she knew she would never trade her time with Gwendolyn for anything. She felt a blush rising at the thought of the older woman and despite being alone, pressed her face into her pillows.

Since the first day she had met the stunning woman, Mildred had been entranced. Gwendolyn’s genuine character and inner light drew the nurse in like a moth to flame. Being around the woman made her…happy. A feeling she had very little of in her life.

But it was wrong. _She didn’t deserve happiness._

 _Wait._ Why though? Her fatigue made it hard to think clearly. _She didn’t deserve joy in her life. Not after what she did to_ \- Mildred covered her ears and curled into a protective fetal position, desperate to not lose herself in the sudden darkness that overtook her. Memories flashed behind her closed eyes and she squeezed them tighter, as if by doing so would prevent the past from catching up to her. Yet it had the opposite effect and _his_ face swam in her mind’s eye. _You left me._ Mildred gasped when she saw that familiar, cold smirk and her eyes shot open. Truly panicking now, she tried to keep her breathing even as she frantically searched for something to ground her. _There!_ Mustering her focus, she started to count the stitches on her duvet cover, trying desperately to pull herself back into the present.

_Beep. Beep._

Mildred was almost grateful now for the piercing sound that jolted her out of her spiraling mind. She slammed her hand down on the alarm clock and forced herself to leave the warmth of her bed. Shaken by the event, she splashed cold water on her face and gripped the sides of her bathroom sink as she trembled. She had not thought of _him_ in a while. Or at least, it had been months since she was thrown into such a…state.

Mildred shuddered and allowed herself a few more minutes of weakness before finally straightening and meeting her gaze in the mirror. Cold brown eyes greeted her, and Mildred gave her hardened reflection a firm nod. All was right again. Shoving her past back down into the deep, hidden part of her where she could forget it once more, Mildred felt her control slowly returning. Lucia Homes needed Nurse Ratched. Gwendolyn needed her. The thought of the older woman gave her the final push of energy she needed to hasten through her morning routine.

As she was finishing the last step - pulling her red curls up in a high ponytail, she stopped and looked at herself critically in the mirror. Self-consciously, she smoothed down her skirt - an eggplant color today for an added boost of confidence - and double-checked her makeup. _What would Gwendolyn think?_ Shaking her head, she scoffed. _It didn’t matter what she thought._

“Looking good today, Mildred,” she whispered to her reflection.

Mildred looked out her window and grabbed an umbrella before sweeping out the door into the cool, rainy April air.

* * *

At precisely 6:30, she strolled into Lucia Homes. As was her new routine, Mildred went straight to the break room and pulled out her notes and planner. Settling into the green couch, she took the first hour to carefully review her day. It wasn’t too bad today - a few meetings and testing a new exercise to help Gwendolyn’s mobility were at the top of her list. The return to order and structure was extremely comforting in righting Mildred’s world, and she felt like herself again.

When the clock hit 7:30, Mildred braved the thunderstorm and handpicked bouquets of fresh colorful flowers to display on the dining tables before breakfast started. Shaking the excess water off the petals, she quickly switched each vase out. She should have done this task last night, but she was so exhausted she went home and straight to bed instead. Carefully, Mildred made sure that the tables were clear from any water puddles that might have dripped from the flowers. A small smirk played on her lips as she appreciated her handiwork. 

At 8:15, Mildred found herself at Gwendolyn’s door. Resting her hand on the cool wood, she smiled to herself before knocking softly and pushing it open. The older woman had her head turned away from her, and Mildred quietly made her way over to the bed.

“Good morning,” Gwendolyn’s sleep-filled voice broke the air.

Startling slightly, Mildred silently cursed as she tripped over her feet. Thank goodness the other woman hadn’t seen her. “Good morning, Ms. Briggs.”

Gwendolyn turned her head, and Mildred was captivated by her sleepy expression. Green eyes shone brightly at her even through lowered lids, and Gwendolyn’s strawberry blonde hair was mussed upon the pillows.

“How are you feeling today?” Mildred asked as she did every morning, slowly pulling the curtains open as she spoke.

“Mm,” Gwendolyn turned her gaze to the window, taking in the grey skies. “Tired. Since I was little, the rain has always made me want to curl up in bed and waste the day away reading.”

Mildred mentally stored that fact away in her “Gwendolyn file”, and offered her patient a small smile. “Well, aside from having to attend meals and our regular exercises, you’re more than welcome to do so today.” 

Gwendolyn beamed at her. “Do you enjoy reading, Nurse Ratched?”

Mildred walked over to her patient and gestured for her to raise her arm. As she set about changing the other woman’s bandages, the nurse responded, “I do. I don’t read nearly as much as I should, as my work keeps me very busy. But I love poetry.”

“Oh,” Gwendolyn hissed slightly as Mildred touched a tender spot. The nurse winced sympathetically and quickly continued dressing the wound. “You must read Sarojini Naidu’s work. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“I haven’t heard of her,” Mildred finished and gently lowered Gwendolyn’s arm.

“She’s an Indian poet, making waves in the civil rights movement in her country,” Gwendolyn explained, making Mildred bite her lip to hide her smile because _of course_ Gwendolyn would be well-versed in the work of an incredible female poet fighting for independence and social justice. “Her poems are truly works of art - vivid, vibrant, lyrical…I wish I had my copy here to share with you.”

Mildred smiled shyly. “She sounds fascinating. I’d like to read her work with you someday.”

Gwendolyn smiled back at her, and Mildred could feel her pesky, confusing feelings rising again. Fearful that if she ruminated on it for too long it would trigger another episode, the nurse cleared her throat and offered her hands out. “Shall we finish getting ready for breakfast?”

“If we must,” Gwendolyn sighed. “I was rather enjoying my bed.”

Mildred chuckled lightly. “As I said before, you’re more than welcome to return to it after we get some food in you.”

Gwendolyn nodded and allowed Mildred to help her up. The nurse then assisted the older woman through the rest of her morning routine and they were on their way to breakfast by 9. Mildred was pleased to feel that Gwendolyn wasn’t leaning as heavily on her as she had been - a good sign of continued progress.

Once they reached the dining room, Mildred helped Gwendolyn sit at what had become her usual table with Ingrid, Lily, and Len.

“The flowers are lovely this morning,” Ingrid drawled as Mildred helped Gwendolyn get situated. “Must be the morning dew that has them looking so bright.”

“Thank you, Ms. Blix,” Mildred acknowledged.

“You picked these in the storm?” Gwendolyn sounded shocked and Mildred nodded somewhat bashfully.

“I’m blown away by her selections every single day. Come hell or high water, we always have beautiful vases,” Len commented as he buttered his toast. 

“Oh, Nurse Ratched always makes sure our flowers are the best,” Lily chimed in and winked. 

“My, I didn’t know flower arranging was in your repertoire. They’re absolutely stunning, Nurse Ratched,” Gwendolyn praised Mildred. “I especially love the marigolds.”

Tucking that small fact also away in her “Gwendolyn file”, Mildred shot her a small smile. “Glad you all enjoy them. I’ll be making my rounds now, but enjoy your breakfast.”

She left her residents chattering happily, and moved her way through the room. The faint sounds of scraping silverware followed her, and she leaned into the feeling of comfort it still gave her. Ever watchful and dutiful, Mildred assumed her position at the front of the hall.

Discreetly, she allowed her gaze to wander over to where Gwendolyn was sitting. The woman’s ginger hair fell in loose curls and she had her head thrown back in laughter at something Len said. Mildred could feel her own lips twitch in response to such visceral joy, and she observed the older woman fondly.

“Still liking the new lady?” Dolly’s voice startled her, and it was only due to years of practicing self-control that Mildred didn’t immediately lash out.

Fearful that her expression gave something away, she slammed her mask down and said cooly, “Ms. Briggs is an exceptional resident. We’re making wonderful progress on her healing.”

A large bubble burst forth from Dolly’s pink lips and Mildred barely stopped herself from popping it out of spite. “She’s really friendly,” the young woman said, lazily smacking her gum. “Almost too friendly.”

Mildred snorted inelegantly. “How can a person be ‘too’ friendly?”

“I dunno,” Dolly shrugged and crossed her arms. “Wasn’t she a politician or something?” Lowering her voice, she whispered conspiratorially as she gossiped, “I bet it’s just an act she put on to get in here and in good graces with Dr. Hanover. There’s no way she would’ve been admitted otherwise.”

“Don’t you ever say that again,” Mildred snapped, a bit louder than she meant to. Hot anger seared through her bones. “You have no idea what Ms. Briggs has gone through. Don’t presume to talk about things you don’t understand, Dolly.”

“Whoa,” Dolly held her hands up and Mildred realized her hand was clenched in a fist by her side. “Sorry.”

Breathing deeply through her nose, Mildred forced herself to calm down and she looked at the blonde disdainfully. “I will see you at the staff meeting,” she said, clearly dismissing the younger woman. 

Mildred caught the barely concealed eye roll as Dolly turned away, but didn’t care. She had no right to talk badly about Gwendolyn’s character. Dark brown eyes followed the blonde as she walked away before meeting curious green ones across the room. Gwendolyn stared at her, and for a minute the two women held each other’s gazes. Mildred could feel the remnants of her anger with Dolly fade, although her cheeks were still heated from the exchange. While Mildred didn’t feel ashamed for sticking up for Gwendolyn, her thoughts began to spiral into a terrible self-consciousness for making such a scene. Embarrassment began to fight for her attention - _oh god, did the older woman hear all that was said? There was no chance she could have, unless Mildred was louder than she thought and_ \- then, as if she could sense Mildred’s inner turmoil, Gwendolyn’s lips curved up and the nurse was powerless to do anything other than return it. 

Breakfast continued smoothly after that, and Mildred was grateful. As residents were finishing up, the redhead made her way to Gwendolyn’s table. Thankfully, Dolly had already escorted Ingrid out and it was just Len, Lily, and Gwendolyn left. The three seemed to be in a passionate discussion about politics as Mildred approached. Curious, she stayed quiet and listened.

“I just don’t understand what the Governor was trying to do,” Lily argued. “Clearly he does not care about his constituents.”

“That’s not true,” Gwendolyn shook her head. “He was trying to reach a new audience. A more diverse group of folks who have historically not had their voices heard before. He cares about his people, and wanted to make sure _all_ were included.” 

Lily hummed, pondering the other woman’s words.

“I remember in my day, the governor would show up at our local diner every Saturday morning,” Len reminisced fondly. “He’d order the same thing - two poached eggs, a side of sausage, and a large cup of plain black coffee. Then he’d spend the morning talking with folks.”

“Yes, that’s exactly the kind of community outreach we were working towards,” Gwendolyn emphasized before chuckling ruefully and gesturing to herself. “Well, before all this happened. Now I’m sure he has other things on his plate.”

“Without you, you mean,” Lily giggled.

“No, no,” Gwendolyn laughed. “I’m sure he’s perfectly fine - he’s in good hands with my interim replacement. For all of his good qualities and deep desire to connect with his constituents, he just needs a bit of guidance on how to best go about it.” 

Finally noticing Mildred’s presence, Gwendolyn lit up. “Nurse Ratched! Goodness, is breakfast over already?”

“Yes,” Mildred clasped her hands in front of herself. “I hate to interrupt your conversation so suddenly.”

“Not to worry - we still have plenty of meals today to continue,” Len chuckled and stood up. “I’ll see you ladies then!”

“I’ll see you at lunch, Gwendolyn,” Lily smiled. “Just going to finish my coffee.”

Gwendolyn smiled at the young blonde before turning to accept Mildred’s help to stand. Together, they made their way out of the dining hall.

“So, I couldn’t help but overhear some of what was said earlier,” Gwendolyn commented lightly.

“Oh?” Mildred could feel the hesitance creep back.

“Although I don’t know exactly what Dolly said, I do appreciate your kind words and defense of my honor,” Gwendolyn gently squeezed her arm, and Mildred almost lost her breath. 

“Of course,” she cleared her throat. “What she said is not worth repeating, and anyhow, it isn’t true. She doesn’t know you.” _Like I’m starting to._

Gwendolyn just hummed in response. They made the rest of the journey back to her room in a comfortable silence, and Mildred helped the older woman get adjusted back in bed.

“Here is your medication for today,” Mildred held out the pills. “Since your pain is a bit more manageable this week, I was thinking this afternoon we could try out a few gentle flexibility exercises to increase your range of motion.”

Gwendolyn swallowed the pills and nodded her agreement. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to laying low today.”

“Of course. I’ll be back for lunch. Don’t hesitate to use the pager if you need anything. In the meantime, here are your books,” Mildred arranged the personal stack that Gwendolyn had brought with her from home carefully within the older woman’s reach. “Um,” she started shyly, “I know it’s not the same as Sarojini Naidu, or a real diverse poet, but I noticed you didn’t have any of her work with you so I took the liberty of taking one from our library here at Lucia Homes,” she rambled and pulled out a collection of Emily Dickinson’s poems. Placing it gently on top of the stack, she continued. “She is a classic though, so I do hope you’ll find her work to be enjoyable on this rainy day - even if you have already probably read her.”

“Oh, Mi-Nurse Ratched,” Gwendolyn said softly. “Thank you. Truly, I love her work and I’m grateful for your thoughtfulness. I’m overjoyed to reacquaint myself with Emily.”

“I’m glad,” Mildred said, a wide grin threatening to burst across her face. “Enjoy.”

She backed out of the room but before she could close the door, Gwendolyn called out to her. “And Nurse Ratched? You look simply stunning in that color.”

“Thank you,” Mildred choked out before quickly shutting the door.

As she strode to her staff meeting, she couldn’t stop the giddiness from rising with each step that she took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all enjoyed some of the Easter eggs I threw in there. ;) Also, neither governor mentioned is the same one as the one in the show - could you imagine Governor Wilburn being that aware? 😂


	4. blurred

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uploaded two chapters this time to make up for my absence, so please don’t forget to go back to read Chapter 3 if you haven’t! :)

Mercifully, the staff check-in was short and direct. Betsy seemed to sense that her team was more stressed than usual, and efficiently went over the updates before letting them go a whole ten minutes early.

That gave Mildred just enough time to eat the peach she had packed for a mid-morning snack and grab her notebook before she was off to Dr. Hanover’s office for an executive meeting. Rapping twice briskly on the doors, she heard a muffled “Enter!” and pushed them open.

Stepping into Dr. Hanover’s office felt like stepping into a palace. Mildred couldn’t shake the unnerving feeling she always got when she entered this space. His office was ostentatious, with floor-to-ceiling curved windows lining an entire wall, a custom bar, and golden chandeliers decorating the ceiling. If Lucia Homes was truly a community catering only to the elite and wealthy, Dr. Hanover had made himself king.

“Mildred!” Dr. Hanover exclaimed, and Mildred barely suppressed a flinch at his informal greeting. “Glad you could join us. Please sit.”

The nurse nodded, and took a seat next to Betsy who had a sour look on her face. An expansive glass table separated the two women from the Director of the Homes, which Mildred was grateful for. While Dr. Hanover had never made any inappropriate advances towards her, his slippery character made Mildred a bit wary. 

“I’m always excited for these meetings with my power team,” Dr. Hanover grinned and rested his forearms on his thighs. “On my agenda, I’d like to touch base on our programming, finances, resident care, and any other general updates.”

Before giving either woman a chance to interject with their thoughts, he dove right in. Mildred bit her lip and settled into the uncomfortable chair, pulling out her pen to take dutiful notes as Dr. Hanover droned on about the activities they offered and strategized ways to increase their profits and reputation. As the meeting went on, Mildred was not shy about interjecting when she felt something needed to be addressed. Betsy also spoke up, and Mildred had to admit that they worked well together - at least, when Betsy wasn’t trying to undermine her.

As they were wrapping up, their conversation turned to each of their job performances in the past few weeks. When it got to Mildred, she straightened.

“I’m finding the work challenging, but rewarding,” she said as her eyes sharpened, unwilling to let Betsy see how exhausted she truly was. “I’m humbled that you both would trust me with these additional responsibilities.” 

“Ah, but of course,” Dr. Hanover rested his arm on the back of the couch. “Our miracle worker. And how is Ms. Briggs doing?” he smiled before remarking, “Quite a charming woman, at least when I’ve interacted with her.”

“Making excellent progress,” Mildred reported, trying not to physically squirm from his comment. “We’re starting a new exercise this afternoon to -”

“Good, good,” Dr. Hanover stood, effectively cutting her off. “I trust you to handle it, Mildred. I must hop on a call with a reporter now - big things are coming, ladies!”

Biting her lip again, Mildred nodded and she and Betsy made their way out of the office. Her low heels sunk into the plush burgundy carpet as she walked, and she secretly hoped she was stepping hard enough to make permanent punctures.

“Wait, Nurse Ratched,” Betsy’s voice stopped her.

“Yes?” Mildred turned to face the shorter woman.

Betsy uncharacteristically worried her fingers together before blurting out, “I trust that Ms. Briggs has had her photo id taken?”

Mildred’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion before responding, “Yes. Huck took it that first week.”

Betsy nodded. “Good.” She lingered a bit, seeming to have an internal battle with herself. Mildred was just about to take her leave before Betsy finally muttered, “Are you sure you’re ok? I’ve noticed that you’re -” at Mildred’s raised eyebrow, Betsy huffed. “You’ve been of course, executing everything…flawlessly. But I couldn’t help but notice that you’re more…well I suppose ‘tired’ would be a delicate way of putting it. You’re staying later and working earlier, and I know that, er,” she looked down, “part of this was on me for putting Ms. Briggs on your plate, but I do want you to know that as the director of our team, I’m still here as a resource. How can I help?”

Mildred was shocked, an emotion rather foreign to her. She had tried to be so careful in hiding her struggles and relying on herself to figure things out. And Betsy offering her help…well that was just unheard of. The nurse’s first instinct was to lash out - how dare Betsy presume to know her? To judge her for being exhausted? _But, you are._ A little voice reminded her. _You can’t help Gw-Ms. Briggs if you can’t help yourself._

Giving Betsy a tight smile, Mildred dipped her head in acknowledgement. “I appreciate you recognizing that,” she forced herself to say, “and I - I would appreciate some help. Perhaps we could schedule a meeting for later this week to see if there are any projects you’d have capacity to take over?”

“Of course,” Betsy nodded.

“And I do want to make one thing clear - Ms. Briggs is not a burden, and I do not fault you for assigning her to me,” Mildred said, struggling to put into words how it was not - and never would be - Gwendolyn who was the burden.

Betsy’s eyebrows rose, but she nodded again.

“I must return to escort Ms. Briggs to lunch,” Mildred clutched her notebook to her chest. “Thank you, Nurse Bucket.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” Betsy returned and gave her a pained smile, more of a grimace, really, but Mildred took it.

The nurse hurried in the opposite direction, still processing the odd exchange as she knocked on Gwendolyn’s door once more.

“Come in!” Gwendolyn’s cheery voice called out and Mildred took a minute to regain her composure before stepping into her resident’s room.

Some of her tension melted as she took in the image before her. While the curtains were still open, Gwendolyn had somehow managed to turn on the lamp in Mildred’s absence and a soft warm glow bathed the room. The woman herself was resting comfortably in bed, her long fingers turning the pages of Emily Dickinson. 

“ _I dwell in possibility_ ,” Gwendolyn softly quoted as she closed her book and gave Mildred a meaningful look. The younger woman felt herself flush at the seemingly double meaning behind the words. 

“I must thank you once again for giving me the gift of timeless poetry,” Gwendolyn smiled at her. “I had forgotten just how much I adore reading this genre - Emily, in particular.”

“I’m glad,” Mildred responded, a shy smile playing on her lips. Really, she surmised she’d smiled more in these past few weeks around Gwendolyn than she had in her whole life.

Pulling herself from her thoughts as she knew it was a slippery path, especially after that morning, she assisted Gwendolyn to lunch before eating her own with Huck in the break room. She enjoyed catching up with the sweet young man, and found herself actually letting out a few genuine laughs.

Gwendolyn took a short nap after her meal, giving Mildred the precious gift of time to attend to a few administrative matters around the Homes. As she hurried through her tasks, she made a mental list of what she might delegate to Betsy later that week. She still could not quite believe that the cantankerous woman would offer her assistance. As soon as she was done Mildred raced back to Gwendolyn’s side, slightly breathless. 

“Goodness, are you alright?” Gwendolyn chuckled.

“Oh, of course,” Mildred panted slightly. “My apologies - I was just running back from checking the greenhouse to make sure the storm hadn’t damaged anything.”

Gwendolyn shook her head and waved her hand. “Nothing to apologize for, Nurse Ratched. I trust everything is in order?”

“Yes, looks like we missed the worst of it,” Mildred said in relief. “Now, I believe that we were ready to start a few new exercises.” 

“Carry on,” Gwendolyn smiled, now used to Mildred’s abruptness.

After some trial and error when they first started the exercises, the two had found the best setup to accommodate the movements. Mildred turned the vanity chair towards the bed and helped Gwendolyn sit in it, as she herself perched on the edge of the bed so they faced each other.

“At any point if you feel discomfort or the slightest hint of pain, let me know and we will stop to assess where it’s coming from,” Mildred said seriously.

Gwendolyn nodded her agreement.

“I’d like you to first raise your arms to as high as you can,” Mildred reached her own out in support. “Don’t worry if it’s not the same as it was a few days ago. Healing is not linear.”

Gwendolyn furrowed her brow in concentration and managed to raise them about forty-five degrees away from her body before stopping.

“Wonderful,” Mildred praised. “That’s actually about the same as it was, but higher than when you first arrived. That’s good. May I demonstrate some of the exercises I’d like to try by moving your arms?”

“Yes,” Gwendolyn gave her consent.

Trying to ignore the spark as she took Gwendolyn’s soft hands in her own, Mildredwalked her through the motions. Being the star patient she was, Gwendolyn followed each exercise perfectly with no twinge of pain or fatigue. When they were done, Gwendolyn kept her hold on Mildred’s hands and the nurse made no move to drop their contact.

“I’m glad it seems like your endurance is growing,” Mildred commented, looking at Gwendolyn warmly.

“It does certainly seem to be improving day by day,” Gwendolyn agreed. “I usually feel so drained by this time, but I suppose I can credit that to having a wonderful nurse.” She gently squeezed Mildred’s hands, and the young woman’s brown eyes widened. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Mildred said shyly. She struggled to remain professional, her mask slipping in the face of Gwendolyn’s kindness and their physical connection. “If anything, it’s a testament to your resilience.”

Tensing slightly at her own words, she waited for any sign of the terror that had gripped her so fiercely this morning. Yet nothing came. How odd.

“You’re far too kind,” Gwendolyn’s eyes searched Mildred’s, a hint of concern in them. “Are you alright?”

“How do you mean?” Mildred bit her lip. Unlike Betsy, Mildred trusted Gwendolyn’s intentions behind asking her that.

“You just seem…drained?” Gwendolyn tried to find the right word. “Like you’ve lost your spark.”

Mildred almost burst into tears right then and there at Gwendolyn’s gentle concern, but steeled herself just in time. “I’m fine,” she squeezed her hands again, this time allowing herself to savor the feel of Gwendolyn’s touch. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Hmm,” Gwendolyn searched her eyes once more, but dropped it. “Well, I am indefinitely grateful to you for helping me through this chapter of my life,” she said warmly.

Mildred could feel herself soften, and her eyes crinkled as she looked at the woman across from her. Their joined hands dropped to rest in their laps, and Mildred appreciated that neither of them acknowledged it.

“Nurse Ratched?” Gwendolyn’s voice was uncharacteristically shy. “I do have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything,” Mildred said almost immediately before flushing. _Too much!_

“I was wondering,” she started, “would you be so kind as to help me with my hair from now on? I much prefer it up, but I can’t-” she gestured vaguely.

“Oh Ms. Briggs, of course,” Mildred said sympathetically. “I do wish I had offered my assistance before now.” 

“No, how could you have known how I usually wear my hair?” Gwendolyn laughed. “I’ve been forced to wear it down for the past month.”

“It is rather pretty that way,” Mildred blurted.

Gwendolyn looked at her in surprise before a pleased blush stained her cheeks. “Thank you.”

Mildred worried her bottom lip before standing and breaking their hands apart. “I’ll just have you stand for a second so I can move the chair in front of the vanity again. That way we can both see the mirror,” she tried to continue as if she hadn’t said something that forward to the other woman.

“I have my pins in the bathroom,” Gwendolyn said somewhat shyly. “Still packed them, even though I knew there was a high chance I wouldn’t be able to use them. So, thank you once more, Nurse Ratched, for being willing to help me with this small indulgence.”

Mildred reached down and squeezed her forearm with a smile. “Doing your hair the way you’re used to is no indulgence - you deserve to feel as normal as possible. I’ll go grab your pins and brush.”

They got situated, and the nurse positioned herself behind Gwendolyn’s seated form. Raising her hands, Mildred was glad the older woman couldn’t see them trembling. Touching someone else’s hair was incredibly intimate, and Mildred wasn’t sure that she could uphold her professional boundaries when it came to Gwendolyn.

“Is there a particular style you’d like me to do?” Mildred asked, relieved that she was no stranger to doing updos.

“Oh, no,” Gwendolyn met her eyes in the mirror. “I usually just twist it in a way where it’s out of my face and off my neck.”

Mildred nodded and set to work, not trusting herself to speak. She combed through Gwendolyn’s soft wavy locks, her fingers brushing down stray hairs as she went. The older woman’s eyes fluttered closed, and she tilted her head back in contentment. Swallowing heavily, Mildred forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Once she was satisfied that she had gotten all the tangles out, Mildred started to gently twist and pull the shoulder-length hair up. Wanting to show off just a bit, the younger woman opted to do a french twisted bun. Slightly formal, but it got the job done and Gwendolyn looked simply stunning with her hair up. She rested her hands on the back of Gwendolyn’s chair.

“How’s that?” Mildred said, her voice a bit husky. 

“Perfect,” Gwendolyn admired the style, turning her head back and forth to catch all angles. She caught Mildred’s eye through the reflection and gave the nurse a smile so pure, it lit up her soul.

And in that moment, Mildred was struck by the clarity of knowing she was safe in Gwendolyn’s presence. The fear that that morning’s events would reoccur faded - not completely, but enough. _How strange_ , she mused to herself, _to feel so comfortable with another person despite only knowing them for a few weeks._ Although she didn’t entirely understand her feelings towards the older woman, Mildred resolved to just enjoy Gwendolyn’s company during the time they had together.

Anything more or less would be unacceptable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed, and please feel free to leave a comment or kudos :)


End file.
